


One Man's Trash—

by Chromophilic_Daydream



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Illustration, M/M, Ren is a bit of a klepto, a touch of angst, implied akeshu, p5 writers zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 12:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19945822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chromophilic_Daydream/pseuds/Chromophilic_Daydream
Summary: On the bed sat a small pile of things he had kept tucked away under one of the more sturdy crates holding the mattress up. He hadn’t forgotten it.It was all junk. Nonetheless, that hasn't stopped him from pilfering items from his friends throughout the year. His eyes roamed over the last of his things and he smiled to himself at the odd assortment of broken and useless things any normal person would have thrown away…Amamiya Ren stole them instead.





	One Man's Trash—

**Author's Note:**

> I got accepted into the [P5 Writers Zine](https://twitter.com/P5writerszine) to write for Ren and just couldn't get this idea out of my head, I got to work with [Aryll](https://twitter.com/aryllins) for this piece, too! Thanks for working with me for this! Check out her twitter for more amazing art.
> 
> Thanks to [Reiko](https://twitter.com/Mithallan) for helping me out with cutting this thing down in words. Hope you all enjoy!

He was going to miss the attic: its dusty air that hung around him no matter how many times he cleaned, the way the floor creaked with the lightest shuffle of his feet, even the mattress held up by splintering crates. He was going to miss it all. The room seemed bigger now that all his things were packed. It was difficult not to be emotional about going back to his old life— whatever that meant. 

On the bed sat a small pile of things he had kept tucked away under one of the more sturdy crates holding the mattress up. He hadn’t forgotten it.

It was all junk. Nonetheless, that hasn't stopped him from pilfering items from his friends throughout the year. His eyes roamed over the last of his things and he smiled to himself at the odd assortment of broken and useless things any normal person would have thrown away…

Amamiya Ren stole them instead.

* * *

Harajuku was always so crowded on the weekend when Ann had free time for them to hang out. She often asked him to go shopping with her to ask his opinion on things she wavered on buying. Well, that was until she finally checked the price tag. 

It was a common occurrence, and Ren had begun to suspect that Ann’s frequent trips with him that resulted in only the purchase of food was just her way of making excuses to hang out with him. It felt—nice. After moving to Shibuya, he couldn’t help but feel loneliness and anxiety from being alienated by his peers. But Ann’s determination to spend time with him was something that made him feel like he wasn’t such an eyesore. 

This became apparent when Ann smiled dazzlingly about how window shopping with him was fun for her. Ann could be defined by that smile; its perseverance through unbelievable hardships polished by a bright red lipstick she seemed to favor. He knew she was battling herself: the guilt from letting her closest friend down, her reluctance to stand up for herself, the fear of isolation. Yet she still smiled so brightly at him, like she was not plagued by trouble at all.

One summer afternoon, they were eating melty crepes as quickly as possible to keep them from dripping.

“Is my lipstick smudged?” she asked in dismay.

Ren nodded, observing the smudges of red around her lips. “Yeah, you have some here, and here…” He motioned to his face. 

She jolted and dug around in her purse for her compact and lipstick. Upon opening the tube she let out a frustrated sigh. “It melted!” Her shoulders slumped. “Man, this one was almost brand new!” True enough, the lipstick had puddled in the tube. 

He offered to throw it away for her but put it in his bag instead. That signature bright red lipstick that reminded him of her determined and sunny personality.

* * *

The first time he went over to Ryuji’s house was to play games. Ren was nervous about going to a friend’s house, but he found that both Ryuji and his mother were incredibly accommodating. His anxieties had smoothed over as he settled down in Ryuji’s room munching on snacks Ren brought.

“So, ya wanna play a racing game? Oh— what about a fighting game?” Ryuji had asked him in his excitement. Ren shrugged.

“I’m in your hands,”

“You're a good man.” Ryuji slapped him playfully on the back and got up from his creaking bed to set up his console on the tiny TV. 

A controller was pressed into Ren’s hand and he smiled, thanking Ryuji. However, something caught his attention almost immediately. The controller that his friend was using looked worn down; it was missing several buttons, and the wire that went to the system was exposed. It was on its last legs.

Ren’s controller looked almost brand new. He didn’t say anything until the fifth round of Ryuji’s favorite game was over and Ren had won by a landslide despite never playing it before. That was when he asked him about the controller.

“’s just old.” Ryuji shrugged. “Not like anyone uses it anymore. I should just get rid of it and get a new one. You’re the first friend I’ve really had over here.” He scratched the back of his head as his words trailed off. Something in Ren’s chest ached. Back home he lost everyone close to him once word of his arrest got leaked. He wouldn’t have seen the point of getting a new controller so friends could come over and play video games either.

“We should go out and get another controller,” Ren suggested suddenly. “Otherwise you’re just going to lose all day.” 

“Big words coming from a noob, but… yeah, you’re right.” They ended up spending the rest of the day out, returning with a controller in much better condition. Ryuji tossed the old one out, but Ren fished around in the trash before he left for the night. It reminded him of Ryuji’s perseverance against all odds when nothing he was doing seemed to be granting him any kind of results and the loneliness that accompanied it.

* * *

Morgana had been unusually quiet after they were finishing up a night in the tacky museum. Ren noticed his friend had been silent since they'd returned from the labyrinth of gaudy art installments. Normally, Morgana would have fussed at him to get ready for bed the moment he stepped foot in Leblanc. However, such lectures didn't come, and the blank expression and the way his large blue eyes stared at Ren's unmade bed sold him out.

"I think I'm going to stay up tonight," Ren said, trying to see if that would elicit a reaction.

Morgana hummed an affirmation rather than scolding him at the suggestion. Ren tried again.

"Awesome, I'm going to stay up and play video games. I'll just chug an energy juice in the morning and be absolutely fine." Nothing.

"Morgana—"

"I'm human, right?" The cat's intense blue eyes suddenly met his own. Ren blinked in response and sat beside him on the bed. 

"I think you are," he said, his voice reassuring to hopefully coax more from Morgana.

"Then... I don't want to wear a collar. I know I'm a cat in this world but... not there—"

Ren stared at him for a moment longer before remembering Ryuji had made a comment while they were ransacking a chest in the Palace. They had unearthed a shiny collar that seemed like it was made out of sturdy material. Ryuji suggested that Morgana try it on to see what the ability was, but Morgana seemed reluctant to. Ren figured it was due to the unknown nature of the collar.

Clearly, that wasn’t it.

He pulled his bag towards him and fished out the object.

“Is this what’s bothering you?”

"No! Of course not!" Morgana's pride prickled up with the fur on his back when he saw the pink collar. "I just don't want to wear it. No human being should wear a silly thing like that." 

"Well, good. It doesn't suit you anyway," Ren said. "I'll throw it out."

Morgana's ear twitched. "Really?" His voice piped up instantly.

Ren nodded with enthusiasm. "Yeah, really. It’s not your style, either. Around here, it makes sense for you to wear a collar. But in the Metaverse? No way."

The cat was practically beaming, his spirits restored by Ren’s encouragement. “You’re right. I’ll find out who I am. I know I’m not just some cat.”

He didn’t throw it away. Ren hid it in a small box under the mattress. He knew Morgana was constantly struggling with his own identity. The collar would be a good reminder of his unlikely friend’s determination to find out who he truly was. 

* * *

Whenever Yusuke woefully expressed his inability to capture beauty in its purest form, Ren found himself completely lost in how to assist him besides accompanying Yusuke wherever he desired. But Ren still had no idea how to connect to the artist.

Until one day they ventured back to Mementos to look over the hazy entryways again. Yusuke was hoping to gaze upon them and discover something new he was missing before. Ren didn’t get it, but it seemed to bring the artist some comfort to have him there.

They were sitting on the bench on the safe floor while Yusuke was laying down colors on his canvas. Ren had pulled his mask off and stole a glance at Yusuke’s work. He was unable to make heads or tails of what the artist was trying to achieve. 

He stared at it then turned his sights towards the artist himself. He watched the concentration that settled in the frown of Yusuke’s face. The unyielding gaze never broke from the canvas. It was admirable that Yusuke tried so hard, even when he was in a ‘slump’. He always pushed himself to what seemed like a breaking point… regardless of how he truly felt about the piece before him.

Like he’d been trained to all his life. Producing content again and again only for it to be stolen from him. Yet he didn’t give up.

The splintering sound of wood cracking made Ren jump.

He heard Yusuke laugh with irritation. “Of course, I am finally on a trajectory to success and another obstacle makes itself known.”

Ren looked to Yusuke’s hand; the brush he had been holding had broken in half. He saw the residue of tape around the shaft—even the bristles that were coated in blue acrylic paint seemed to be withered. 

“This was my favorite brush.” Yusuke’s shoulders slumped as he lamented his loss. “I suppose it is time to buy another one. I wonder if I can substitute my food allowance—” 

Ren knew he was talking to himself but could not idly let his odd friend starve for the sake of a brush. “I have some extra from Mementos raids.”

“Heavens no, I couldn’t.” Yusuke’s steady gaze locked onto his own, but Ren couldn’t help but offer a small smile. 

“I’ll go buy the brush for you then— since you’re going to be stubborn. Come on.”

The smile on Yusuke’s face made his offer feel genuinely appreciated. “I’m forever in your debt,”

Ren shook his head and snatched Yusuke’s broken brush when he wasn’t looking. To him, having a little piece of Yusuke that reminded him how hardworking he was in the face of personal failure paid the debt in full.

* * *

Studying with Makoto made Ren sleepy. It wasn’t that it was boring, just soothing. The scratching of pens against the backdrop of the cozy atmosphere in Leblanc made his eyelids heavier. Makoto seemed to catch him every time he nodded off. She figured out exactly when his attention span was reaching exhausted and coaxed him back to the task at hand. She was the best person to study with for that reason. 

Ren found some amusement when she would pull out her study material. It managed to make him crack a smile when he saw her mascot pens and panda folders. Without fail, she brought them every time. The cute stationery always stood out against her headstrong personality.

During one of their sessions, he noticed her shaking her pen from across the table. The fourth time this happened, Ren decided to look up at her.

“Something wrong?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand.

Makoto frowned deeply, looking at the panda pen in her hand. It was almost as worn as the paintbrush he had stolen from Yusuke a few weeks back. The body of the pen had worn away to white from use, and the ballpoint at the end crunched back into the shaft.

“No, nothing,” Makoto responded, shaking the pen again. Ren looked at her notes, seeing her neat handwriting broken up and ink blotches on her paper.

“Oh yeah? You always write that messy?” He teased gently. He saw her stiffen then relax with a soft laugh. 

“It’s just an old pen… I don’t want to get rid of it though…I’ve already replaced the inkwell so many times,” Makoto looked at the pen that was topped with a 3D panda mascot she loved so much. “Stupid right? I should just throw it out… they sell others but not this one.”

Ren wordlessly held his hand out to her. She blinked but set the pen in his hand.

“Can I try something?”

“Go ahead.”

He had been practicing making infiltration tools with Morgana recently and found that he had become quite skilled at lock picking and paying attention to minute details. He examined the pen and found a small notch connecting the mascot to the pen and managed to pry it off after about ten minutes.

Makoto stared at him in awe as he handed the mascot back to her. Her smile stretched so wide he couldn’t help but follow her example. He kept the pen, however, as a token of her sentiment overwhelming practicality every now and again.

* * *

Futaba’s room was an absolute mess when he finally took a good look at it. She was occupied, absorbed in fulfilling her end of the bargain with the Phantom Thieves. He took to her room, deciding cleaning it was better than idly waiting around. It took several hours, but once it was done he felt completely satisfied seeing the space so spotless. He sorted all the trash as well, bagging it up properly when something caught his attention. It was an advertisement for a limited edition Featherman Ranger R complete action set. The flier was written on in messy, unkempt characters saying “GET THIS!”. It was an in-store only event. Ren looked around the newly decluttered room for the figures. They weren’t there. 

He pocketed the flier and brought it home with him after Futaba confirmed her takedown of the fake Medjed.

Once he started to help her get over her fear of going outside, he decided to ask her about it.

“Oi, why are you snoopin’ in my room?” She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. Ren just laughed and shook his head.

“I was cleaning it. I saw it but not the figures. Did you get them?”

Her pout turned into a pointed frown. “I wanted to but… I didn’t feel I deserved them.” Her voice, just moments after holding such a haughty tone, dampened. “I couldn’t go out and get them, and even though I love Featherman—” Her words faded. “I just—”

She couldn’t leave. Ren understood wholeheartedly how incredibly painful her whole situation was. He stopped the conversation there so she didn’t have to explain any more hurtful details. She made a promise to him to never miss an event like that again though, that she was going to get better.

Ren kept the flier as a marker of her promise and progress towards coping with her pain. 

* * *

When Haru began to open up to him about her problems dealing with her father’s business, Ren listened to her explain her situation and provided her comfort wherever he could. The brave smile she put on in front of the group transferred to even their private conversations in her home where they drank tea together and talked. He wondered just how anyone could deal with death as calmly as Haru could.

That was until he heard her gasp as she set her cup down on the saucer. “Oh no,”

He looked up from his drink to see the porcelain cup completely broken off from the delicate handle. It was only then that Ren noticed the shake in her hand. As calm as Haru’s explanations were, there was anger behind her grip that her words could not express. He felt a rush of guilt upon realizing that she had not been able to be honest about the effect her father’s death had on her, not really.

“It’s still usable. I bet we can glue it—”

“There’s no need. I’ll just throw it out.” Haru sat the cup down on the table, her fingers still trembling. Ren offered that they go shopping for a new one, much to Haru’s pleasure. He kept the handle though, a reminder to never judge someone’s ability to cope just by how they presented themselves to the world.

* * *

Akechi… was a different story. The king thrown at him was not something he rightfully earned nor stole. It was nothing more than a token of a game being won. A promise. But the detective had been the one to win, having stolen something from Ren instead. And he didn’t think he’d ever get that back. Those unresolved feelings would haunt him for the rest of his life, he was sure of it. But if Akechi stealing his heart did haunt him, he would relish in it. And yet his collection on his bed was incomplete. He had no bit of Akechi to represent the truth behind his motives or feelings. It made him futilely wish for one more chance.

He finished packing, and the next morning he was headed out to go back, Morgana by his side. As he was saying goodbye to Sojiro, something caught his eye. 

The chipped rim of a mug. The one he served Akechi out of spite when they first met. The detective never said anything about it, but now it brought a sober smile to his lips.

He felt a bit bad swiping it from Sojiro. But after a long day of traveling and last minute fun with his friends, his little treasure trove was proudly displayed in his dreary room.

He already missed them but knew they would never leave his life, even if they never met again. Their pain, their struggles, and their impact would always be felt, regardless. Especially the pain that would never truly heal. But he’d carry on; he’d grow, he’d learn—

He’d live.

“Right Akechi?” Ren asked quietly as he drank a cup of coffee, mindful of the chip in the rim.

  



End file.
